


Mania

by nagemeikenu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark, Harry is very angry and confused, Implied/Referenced Character Death, RS Fireside Tales, Remus tries to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagemeikenu/pseuds/nagemeikenu
Summary: Harry and Remus are talking, and Remus has just offered to join him on his quest to defeat Voldemort. An alternate ending to that conversation.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: RS Fireside Tales Vol.3





	Mania

**Author's Note:**

> I submitted this for Fireside Tales 2020! I was thrilled with my prompt, T22: "I figure I am basically a ghost. I think we all are." John Astin  
> Had lots of fun writing this short, spooky one! Enjoy <3

“I think you’re feeling a bit of a daredevil,” said Harry. “You fancy stepping into Sirius’ shoes—”

“And you haven’t?”

Harry blinked, his building rage siphoned off like a river suddenly going dry. It seemed as if all his rage had now become Remus’, and Harry thought for a moment that Remus’ eyes flashed gold. Everything seemed different now. The house was cold, though they’d laid a fire. He could distinctly remember the bickering between Ron and Hermione over where to lay the logs and in what order. The room seemed darker, as if Remus was suddenly giving off the only light available.

“Excuse me?” Harry was lost in the confusion, suddenly aware that Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be found. Had they left? How long had they been gone? His breath came more quickly than before. Everything had changed but no one had moved...or had they?

He drew his wand, but it felt so cold in his hand he dared not cast anything. What spell could he possibly cast to help himself? In a flash, he remembered being in a maze, being surrounded by the thick green hedges and having no way of finding his goal.

“ _ Point me _ .” He stared at his unmoving wand in his palm.

“What on earth were you hoping to accomplish?” Remus looked thoughtful.

“Dunno,” Harry managed. “I…”

“You haven’t figured it out yet.” Remus seemed to calm himself, the tension from his shoulders dissipating. The anger that had previously possessed him seemed to vanish completely.

“Figured—what?”

“Well, I cannot tell you.” Remus shrugged. “I would if I could, of course, but as you are in a very particular situation—”

“I’m going to kill Voldemort.” Harry clung to the only purpose he had, the one thing that had kept him going through this entire nightmare. If he could fulfill that purpose, he could have peace. That much, he knew, was truth.

“Harry, haven’t you anything better to do?”

“Anything—” Harry spluttered. “What’s better than vanquishing the man who killed my parents? Who killed your friends? YOU WERE THEIR FRIEND!”

Remus seemed unperturbed by his escalating volume. As a matter of fact, he hardly reacted at all.

“Of course they were my friends, Harry.” Remus stood, leaned his hip against the table. “You are my friend, too.”

“I am the one who was  _ chosen _ to kill Voldemort.” Harry said it as if it were yet another of Dumbledore’s lies, lies that untangled his entire being and left him nowhere to go.

“That is true. You were chosen, by Voldemort himself.” Remus said it gently, as if he was finally noticing Harry’s distress, as if he were finally attempting to offer some kind of comfort.

Harry had long outgrown the need to be comforted, coddled. In a house like the Dursley’s, such a need was squashed quickly.

“Then why are you here?”

“To help,” Remus said.

“Then HELP!” Harry shouted. “DON’T JUST STAND THERE LIKE…”

“Like what?” Remus tilted his head.

“Like a  _ ghost _ ,” Harry spat at him. “You’re there, in front of me, can’t tell me anything, just...taking up space like a useless ghost!”

“Well, we can agree ghosts are useless.” Remus smiled sadly. “That’s never stopped any ghost from continuing their existence.”

“IT SHOULD!” Harry raged. He continued shouting, unaware of what exactly he was shouting, but the toll of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for the past seventeen years was now too much. It had finally broken him, and all Harry had was his burning anger and the fear he refused to acknowledge.  _ Where’s Ron? Where’s Hermione? Where are they? Where are they? Where’s Kreacher? _

“Harry.” Remus’ voice broke through Harry’s mindless screaming. “That’s enough.”

“Is it?” Harry thought his throat should hurt. He had no idea how long he’d been shouting.  _ Where’s Ron? Where’s Hermione? _

“Yes, I believe that’s quite enough?”

“Even for a ghost?” Harry couldn’t help himself. The anger was far from gone. For an instant, he thought he’d be enraged forever.

“I figure I basically am a ghost. I think we all are.” Remus said it as if he were commenting on the chilly room in the now silent house. “I’m afraid there’s no changing that, Harry.”

“So what, then?” Harry asked. “We do nothing?”

“We watch,” Remus said simply.

“Watch?”

“Yes. I’m afraid we are not the kind of ghosts who are seen. We are merely spectators on a ghastly scene.”

“I don’t understand.” Harry’s voice was growing in volume again.

“I know, Harry.” Remus looked so sad, so beyond his age. It looked as if he was aging before his eyes, becoming translucent with the only color in Remus’ eyes. They were as Harry saw before: golden.

“Believe me, I know.”


End file.
